


Blow the Candles Out

by Arukou



Series: Tumblr Archive the Second [14]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Schmoop, Teen warning is for swears only, Tony Stark Is A Hot Mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:01:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23149699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arukou/pseuds/Arukou
Summary: Another year come and gone. Wait. Wait. A year? It's been a year?!
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: Tumblr Archive the Second [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1043486
Comments: 3
Kudos: 100





	Blow the Candles Out

Tony rolls his neck and tries not think about how it feels like several of his vertebrae have ascended into his skull. “Turtle turtle,” he mutters nonsensically, slumping against the elevator wall as the private lift rockets up. His back aches from sitting in his office chair all day, ergonomics be damned, and his temples throb with the threat of a migraine.

“J, time?”

“12:47 AM, Sir.” The censure in his voice does not go unnoticed.

“Urgh. Ugh. And the flight tomorrow is?”

“7:40 AM. Today, I might add, Sir.”

“What?”

“The flight is today.”

“And just why the hell is it so early, anyway? Isn’t the whole point of having a private jet not having to get up at the asscrack of dawn to catch a flight?”

“For that, Sir, you would need a private airstrip as well, and unfortunately, that is prohibitively expensive in New York City, even for you.”

Tony groans and rolls his shoulders again. This late, Steve’s probably already in bed. And with having to get up so early, Tony’s not even going to get a good morning snuggle or snog or anything. Maybe going to bed is a wash. He could go down and get a head-start on the latest software patches for their GPS, or maybe work out just why exactly the targeting system in the left repulsor has been on the fritz. It’s six hours to California. That’s enough time to just sleep on the plane, and there’s always concealer for under-eye bags.

The elevator arrives at the penthouse, but Tony can’t seem to find the energy to unpeel himself from the wall. Eyes drooping, he considers just curling up to sleep right here.

“Sir?”

Tony snorts, blinks, managed to dislodge himself. Half asleep on his feet, he stumbles out, only to come up short. A banner is draped over the living room flatscreen.

“HAPPY BIR ~~D~~ THDAY!” it proclaims, sloppily written out in purple marker and adorned with little symbols which Tony supposes are meant to represent each of the Avengers, if the hourglass and purple H are anything to go by. The D of “DAY” has been filled in with a rough approximation of the arc reactor, and it slams into Tony like a ton of bricks.

Ever since the whole palladium debacle, he’s kept his birthdays pretty low-key. Not to mention there’s been a world-threatening event every April since then. It hardly feels like a time for cake and booze when weird green aliens are trying to take over the planet. Somehow, this year he just…forgot.

In addition to the banner, there are balloons (one of which is most definitely a dick), streamers, fairy lights, a stack of party hats, and several six-packs of bottled beer, slightly soggy from having been left to sweat at room temperature. The room, however, seems deserted.

“Happy 51st birthday, plus one day, Sir.”

“Ouch, J. You could at least soften the blow.”

“Excuse me. Happy 38th Birthday the Thirteenth.” 

“Wow. See if I give you that nice new rack of servers I’d been thinking about.”

Tony stumbles further into the living space, taking in the obvious care with which the decorations were made, the fact that one pack of beer is his favorite snooty craft label. As he rounds the sofa, he sees a stack of gifts, some haphazardly wrapped, sitting next to the coffee table.

And Steve.

Steve is slumped down into the embrace of the couch, birthday hat askew, fast asleep. It’s the most endearing thing. A glistening trail of drool trickles from one corner of his mouth. His shirt rides up where he’s slid further and further into gravity’s embrace, revealing both boxer-brief waistband and tantalizing abs. He’s managed to kick off one sock, as he usually does in bed. Someone had tried to drape a blanket over him, but the blanket has puddled on the floor, only one corner still trapped under Steve’s ass.

Enraptured by the vulnerability, the humanity, of what’s before him, Tony stalls out again, blinking dumbly in the dim light of New York. It takes him a long while, certainly long enough to be creepy, before he finds the energy to stumble forward and put a hand to Steve’s shoulder.

“Come on, honey. Up you get.”

In his usual way, Steve snaps from sleeping to waking, though he doesn’t flail the way he used to. A few too many mishaps in bed have trained him into clamping his arms down in the moment of waking, a measure meant to keep him from accidentally punching Tony with all the strength of a startled supersoldier.

“Tony? Tony!” Steve flails then, arms and legs jumping, body jerking up and promptly spilling onto the floor. “Guys! Tony’s…”

Only then does Steve seem to realize he’s alone in the living room. He blinks cow-eyed for a moment, and then scrambles to his feet. “Well, uh…” Hands to his pockets, shoulders hunched, Steve looks amazingly vulnerable for a man who’s 6′2″. “Happy birthday?”

“I’m sorry I stayed working so late at the office. I didn’t realize… I mean… This is a surprise.”

“Well, for once, we…” Steve pauses and self-consciously reaches over to knock on the mahogany end table. “For once, we didn’t have a space invasion on our hands, so I thought we’d surprise you. So much for the man with a plan, seeing’s as how this one didn’t work out at all.”

“Are you kidding me? That banner is great.”

“Clint’s handiwork,” Steve says sheepishly. “Bruce made your favorite. Or, uh, I suppose it’s probably packed into Tupperware in the fridge. And Nat picked up that tiramisu from that place you like.”

“Aw, honey. Thank you,” Tony says, stepping into Steve’s place. His back and shoulders are still tight knots of tension, and all he really wants to do is sleep for twenty-four hours straight, but all that fades in the wake of this overwhelming cotton inside of him. He feels soft and warm, indistinct, like the edges of his being are kind of just floating off into the living room. Is this love? Is this what it is to be loved?

Steve steps forward to meet him, freeing his hands and pulling Tony close. “We’ll reschedule. For next week.”

“Week? I’m only in California for two days.”

“Oh crap.” Against Tony’s face, Steve flinches. “I really can’t pull off anything today.”

“What now?”

“Um, can you pretend you didn’t hear anything?”

“Absolutely not. This sounds too juicy. What is it?”

“Your business trip tomorrow isn’t actually a business trip. It’s Pepper’s gift to us. A week off. We’re flying to Japan to be tourists, at least as much as we can be.”

“Steve, are you serious?”

“Sushi, hot springs, and monkeys, oh my.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god, I love you.” The reprieve of it all sinks into his bones, cuts his strings, and he melts into Steve, consigning all his weight to gravity. Steve holds him, and then does him one better and lifts him, bearing all of Tony’s weight.

“Happy birthday, sweetie.”

He glances down for a kiss, but Tony’s already out like a light.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](https://arukou-arukou.tumblr.com/post/183758813376/happy-birthday-to-me-tony-rolls-his-neck-and). Please come and say hi on [tumblr](https://arukou-arukou.tumblr.com/) if you'd like!


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